


Tonight We Will Connect the Dots

by AceEmerson



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - SNL, Established Relationship, Love Confessions, M/M, Mirror Sex, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:13:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24190369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AceEmerson/pseuds/AceEmerson
Summary: Eddie accidentally tells Richie he loves him through text. Luckily Richie loves him back.--Companion fic to the Reddie SNL AU twitter smauSet around post 202
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 8
Kudos: 350
Collections: Reddie SNL AU Companion Fics





	Tonight We Will Connect the Dots

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pandon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pandon/gifts).



> This is a companion piece to the Reddie SNL twitter smau!
> 
> You don't need to read the AU to read this piece, but it will provide some context.
> 
> You can find the smau at [@snlreddie](https://twitter.com/snlreddie)  
> You can find the authors at [@LizzardEmily](https://twitter.com/LizzardEmily) (me) and [@criesinkaspbrak](https://twitter.com/criesinkaspbrak) (my lovely girl)
> 
> Title comes from Connect the Dots by The Spill Canvas (listen to our full SNL AU playlist [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0qMC9Uqd1hcf95mGjjjdKD?si=sAL87zzSRtWNq_BXLwcUEQ))

_WHAT_

The one word, all caps text from Richie comes in immediately. Eddie doesn’t know what the guy is questioning, so he sends back a quick “What?” before his eyes drag back up to read their previous messages. He rereads the last thing he sent and… oh. He texts back as much, “Oh.”, as the levity of the situation hits him, as what he said hits him. They’ve only known each other two months, they’ve only been officially together for a few days, and Eddie just admitted that he loves him. His heart races and his hands shake just a little, anxiety creeping up within him. But he doesn’t even consider denying his words, because they’re true. They’re so incredibly true. Because he is in love with his boyfriend Richie Tozier.

_Um. Yeah. I am._

He types out his reply and presses send, blood rushing in his ears and heart running a frantic race in his chest. This wasn’t how he wanted to tell Richie; he wasn’t ready and he wasn’t prepared. His rituals, his obsessions kick in. His foot slides over the bathroom floor, socked toe counting the linoleum tiles. He measures his breathing carefully. He reads the words on the screen and counts their letters, then spells them backwards in his head. All the crazy little anxiety-ridden bits of him coming out to play.

But then a sound cuts through the heavy silence of the bathroom. The sound of someone yelling from a few rooms away, loud enough that Eddie can make out the words, strong enough that Eddie knows it’s Richie yelling those three words back to him. His phone buzzes in his palm, nervous ticks and rituals falling still as he smiles at the words from Richie.

_i love you too and i’m on my way to say it to your face_

Eddie hears the sound of that booming confident voice growing louder, repeating those words to him yet again. And again. The happiness in Eddie’s chest threatens to swallow him whole as he grins down at his phone, sending one more text, fingers tapping along to the beat of the running he hears coming down the hallway.

_I can already hear you shouting it!_ 😂

The yelling only stops when Eddie sees the reflection of Richie appear in the mirror before him. Mirror-Richie pauses in the doorway, and Eddie makes eye contact with him. There’s barely a moment of hesitation before they’re both moving. Eddie turns to face his boyfriend, his love, his _Richie,_ at the same time that Richie closes the distance between them.

Eddie feels hands on his hips just as his own hands come to rest on Richie’s shoulders. They’re in each other’s space immediately, standing so close together as Richie leans down to press their foreheads together. As much as Eddie hates all the short jokes Richie throws his way, he secretly loves that Richie is taller than him. There’s something about it that just makes his heart feel happy and fond. He can practically hear Richie saying, “wow, you gay for me or something, Eds?” in his head. It makes him smile as he locks eyes with his boyfriend, sharing breaths and warmth and touch as they crowd together.

“I love you, Eddie,” Richie says, voice uncharacteristically soft, eyes warm and fond in that way that Eddie only ever sees when they’re aimed at him.

Eddie feels his heart skip and race, smile blooming brightly on his face. He can’t help it, there’s no use in fighting it. When Richie’s around he just feels happy. Except happy isn’t the right word. He’s felt happy before, and that’s nothing compared to the way that Richie makes him feel during moments like this. Like he could burst from all the things he’s feeling. He didn’t know it was even possible to feel this way and yet here he is, being loved and adored by the guy who has brought so much light into his life. God since when is he such a giant sap.

“I love you, Rich,” Eddie responds, the nickname falling off his lips naturally in the moment.

Richie grins at that, so wide that it crinkles the corners of Richie’s eyes. Eddie loves that he can make Richie smile like that. He loves that he can make Richie happy. He loves that Richie loves him back. He loves Richie. He loves him.

One of Eddie’s hands slides from Richie’s shoulders to the back of his neck, pulling the older guy the rest of the way down into a kiss. At first it’s nothing but a press of their two smiles together, but after a moment their mouths relax and slot together into a real kiss. Richie steps closer, and Eddie feels himself being pinned between the bathroom counter and Richie’s body, fingers tangling in Richie’s curls as he pulls him impossibly closer.

The kiss is deep and heated, dirty and yet somehow Eddie swears he can _feel_ how much Richie loves him through nothing but their connection of their lips. Maybe Richie turned him into this hopeless romantic that he’s become, but he doesn’t even care. He’ll be a cheesy sap, but only for Richie. With Richie he just…. _knows._ After so long of being unhappy, of settling, of thinking that this was as good as life could get, he’s finally found this guy who makes him feel sure and happy and excited for the future. He thinks suddenly that this is the first time he’s really truly been in love with someone.

Eddie surges forward just a fraction, and maybe it should be a hair too rough for the moment, but Richie just moans into his mouth. That sound is so hot, Eddie wants to inject it straight into his veins. His teeth nip at Richie’s lower lip, and this time the sound that tumbles from Richie’s lips is more like a whine.

“Fuck, Eds,” Richie breathes out, voice shaky and full of weight, “you’re so hot.”

Eddie will never tire of hearing Richie talk about him like that, especially not in that voice, but the words flip a switch in Eddie’s brain and remind him of what brought up his accidental confession in the first place.

“No,” Eddie responds, voice firm as he pulls back just enough to make eye contact with the taller guy, “no this isn’t about me. This is about you. And how fucking hot _you_ are.”

Richie gives a wry smile as he reaches up to fix the glasses which had fallen adorably askew during their makeout session.

“I hate to break it to you, spaghetti man, but you’re the stunner in this relationship,” Richie replies with a wink.

Richie’s voice is so matter-of-fact, not self-deprecating fishing for a complement, that it makes a wave of feelings surge in Eddie’s chest. It’s a mix of anger and frustration, of incredulity, of love and admiration, all with an undercurrent of need to show Richie how wrong he is.

Eddie frowns up at his boyfriend, ridiculously irritated over the guy’s words.

“Do you remember when you said I could have anyone I want, and I told you I have who I want, and called you an idiot?” Eddie asks, eyes firm and locked with Richie’s.

Richie shifts a bit uncomfortably for a moment, seeming a little unsure of himself, and definitely a bit wary.

“Yeah?” he responds, except it’s more like a question.

“Because you’re still an idiot, and you’re still the only one I want,” Eddie responds, voice level and serious with the weight of what he’s saying.

Richie’s eyes flit away from Eddie’s, moving slightly off to the side in just a small movement that is so fucking telling. Eddie doesn’t give Richie time to formulate a response, and instead leans forward to bring their lips together again. The kiss is intense and insistent, but it’s not just about heat and touch; Eddie is kissing with a purpose. He doesn’t let Richie catch his breath, kissing rough and eager as he hauls the other guy even closer.

When Eddie finally has to break for breath, he does so to find Richie’s eyes on him again, bright and adoring. He reaches up to place a hand on Richie’s cheek, reveling in the way the man seems to melt into the touch. His thumb smoothes over Richie’s cheek, feeling the slight stubble there and smiling at what a familiar feeling it is becoming. 

“I love your lips you know,” Eddie muses, eyes locked on them, feeling amazed all over again that he gets to kiss them whenever he wants.

Eddie leans in for another kiss, except this one is slower this time. The hand on Richie’s cheek moves slowly, fingertips dragging along the man’s jaw, tracing the strong shape of it. When the kiss breaks again, Eddie feels breathless.

“Have you ever noticed what a good jawline you have?” Eddie asks, seeing confusion creep onto Richie’s features, “because I sure as hell have.”

He throws a small glance over his shoulder at the sight of him and Richie in the mirror behind him. Turning back to face Richie again, he shifts to be sure that Richie can see over his shoulder and nods towards the mirror.

“Look at yourself. You’re so fucking hot, Richie,” Eddie breathes out, feeling like the winner of a small battle when Richie does as he’s told and looks at himself in the mirror.

It’s so clear that Richie doesn’t see much in their reflection, and that drives Eddie halfway crazy. He leans in, pushing up on his toes just a bit, to press his lips to Richie’s jaw. His hands come up to slide along Richie’s broad shoulders as his lips kiss their way to his ear. 

“I love your shoulders too,” Eddie mumbles against the shell of Richie’s ear, hands practically tingling at being able to touch Richie so freely.

Eddie feels Richie’s head turn, probably in order to pull Eddie into a kiss or something, but Eddie doesn’t let him. One hand slides up Richie’s neck to turn his attention back to the mirror. He’s not getting out of this that easily.

“What’s that thing that Bev says about guys? Something about climbing them?” Eddie asks, lips trailing down to the crook of Richie’s neck as he speaks, “well yeah I want to climb you or whatever.”

And it’s true. Eddie feels about to jump Richie at any given moment. He wants him all the time. Constantly. He feels Richie give a small shiver and feels the hands on his hips shift a little, pulling him closer, pressing their bodies together. It reminds him of yet another thing he loves about his big stupid boyfriend.

“And your hands….” Eddie starts before trailing off on a moan. He really does love those hands. 

Eddie breathes out his hot breath against Richie’s neck for just a moment before his teeth are nipping at the skin there, earning himself a small gasp from Richie’s lips. God he loves this, loves being able to make Richie react like that. So he does it again, another little bite that leads into a gentle kiss.

“Your hands are so big, I want them all over me all the time,” Eddie explains, rocking his hips against Richie.

They’re both half hard in their boxers, and Eddie is only getting started.

“You have no idea how hot you are and sometimes it makes me want to yell at you,” he muses, earning a chuckle that makes him smile, “you look good in anything you wear. Even those stupid fucking hawaiian shirts of yours.”

If Eddie’s hips give a jerk at the mental image of Richie in nothing but a hawaiian shirt that his brain just provided him, well he’ll never admit it. It’s honestly just not fair that Richie can look incredible no matter what.

“I love you in pajamas and I love you all dressed up,” Eddie admits, face feeling warm with the admission, despite how true it is, “no matter what you wear I’m always a split second away from jumping you.”

Eddie sticks out his tongue and licks a stripe up Richie’s neck, moaning at just the same time that Richie downright whines. Once upon a time Eddie refused to give someone so much as a peck on the cheek without them having washed their face first. Now he’s licking his boyfriend’s neck when the guy hasn’t taken a shower in at least 24 hours. Richie makes him want to break all the stupid rules his brain has set up for him.

“Do you have any idea how hot you look for me, Rich?” Eddie asks, voice getting low and breathy as his hips keep up their grinding, making heat bloom in his veins, “when you’re all spread out and eager? When you’re stripped naked and waiting for me like a good boy? Or when you’re on your knees looking up at me through your lashes, begging with your eyes?”

This time the noise that falls from Richie’s lips is a pure whimper. It’s like ice and fire in Eddie’s veins, and he pulls back because he _has_ to see Richie’s face right now. They make eye contact, and Eddie feels like he could come on the spot. Those blue eyes are nearly black with how blown his pupils are, half-lidded and needy, want and need shining through.

Eddie reaches up and pulls Richie down into a rough biting kiss, getting back as good as he gives as he kisses his boyfriend like he means it. Richie’s hands on his hips, shoulders under his touch, kissing him so hard, it’s intoxicating and overwhelming in the best way. By the time they break apart, Eddie’s lungs burn and he’s painfully hard.

“Can I fuck you?” Eddie asks, nipping at Richie’s bottom lip as he speaks, “Right now?”

“Y-yeah,” is all Richie replies, shaky and uneven, but still so sure.

Richie’s been rather quiet through this. It’s unusual and surprising. Eddie would have guessed that Richie would have been trying to throw off his attention with compliments or jokes, but instead Richie has been listening. Eddie has no idea how it’s been making him feel.

Eddie pushes Richie back enough to squeeze out of his position sandwiched between the counter and Richie, and moves to stand behind his boyfriend. Richie goes to turn, but Eddie doesn’t let him, wrapping an arm around Richie’s chest and resting his free hand on the guy’s hip. 

“Look at my boyfriend,” Eddie says, having to stand on his toes to peek over Richie’s shoulder and look at the two of them in the mirror, “my handsome amazing perfect, fucking sexy as hell boyfriend.”

Blood rising to Richie’s cheeks tints his skin red in the reflection, somehow making Eddie want him even more. God, how is he real? How is he so perfect? How does Eddie get to call him his?

“I just look like Richie, dude,” Richie responds, raising an eyebrow making eye contact with Eddie through the mirror.

“Lucky me,” Eddie responds with a smile, straining on his toes so he can press a kiss to Richie’s cheek.

He drops back onto the flats of his feet and pulls away regretfully, missing Richie’s warmth instantly. Richie tries to turn around again, but Eddie stills him once more, this time with a firm hand on his back, between his shoulder blades.

“Bend over,” Eddie says, voice instantly slipping into something low, something intense, something hungry.

Richie gives a near-imperceptible shiver, but then he’s giving Eddie an excited grin in the mirror.

“Yes sir,” Richie responds, bending over the counter on command, causing Eddie’s breath to hitch.

Fuck. He’s so far gone for Richie, it should be pathetic. But it doesn’t make him feel pathetic, not when he can affect the guy just as much as he can affect him. He turns away from the inviting sight of Richie bent over the counter waiting for him, and goes to grab lube and a condom from the shelf in the corner. He had thought it might be overkill to put supplies in various places around the house before Richie’s arrival, but it has proven to be a godsend. Who knew there were so many places to fool around in his tiny place?

The first thing he does when he returns to Richie is lean over and kiss the man’s back, just a press of lips between his shoulder blades. He glances up to make eye contact with mirror-Richie once again. There’s such warmth and fondness in those eyes.

“I love you,” Richie says, beating Eddie to the three words on the tip of his tongue.

“I love you,” Eddie echoes back, feeling warm and fuzzy.

Is this what it’s supposed to feel like to be in love? Why didn’t anyone tell him years ago that happiness and love like this existed? The two of them share a smile for a second before Eddie’s brain kicks back into gear with purpose.

“I want you to watch yourself,” Eddie says, voice firm, but not exactly commanding, “while I finger you, I want you to watch yourself in the mirror.”

Surprise crosses Richie’s features, and Eddie watches as the guy’s gaze flickers to his own face in the mirror before turning back towards Eddie. He seems unsure and nervous, so unlike the loud in-your-face guy that Eddie is used to.

“Eds, I… I don’t know...” is all Richie says, biting his lip as his eyes flicker between himself and his boyfriend in the mirror.

Eddie runs a hand up and down Richie’s back, reassuring and soothing. This is something he really wants to do, something he wants to prove to Richie. But he never wants to make the guy uncomfortable.

“If you really don’t want to, we don’t have to, babe,” Eddie says, voice gentle, “I just want you to understand how hot you are. But this is your choice.”

Richie’s eyes flit and flicker again before finally landing on his own face, hesitantly.

“Okay but it’s not my fault if I can’t get it up for my own face,” Richie responds before throwing a smirk into the glass and adding, “even though your mom never seems to have trouble getting it up for this mug.”

Eddie groans in irritation, but secretly he’s grateful for the quip. It resets the situation between them, making it less heavy. Even if it is a dumb stupid joke that isn’t the least bit funny. What an idiot.

His hand slides the rest of the way down Richie’s back, reveling in the feeling of the man under his touch, even if they are separated by a layer of fabric. He pulls down Richie’s boxers, smiling to himself at the way the guy shimmies his hips to help them along. Richie might seem to worship Eddie’s ass, but the guy has a pretty nice ass of his own. Eddie doesn’t resist the temptation to palm the exposed skin, making Richie jump slightly at the cool touch of Eddie’s fingertips.

Eddie grabs the bottle of lube, popping it open and squeezing a liberal amount of it on his fingers. Before Richie, he used to wash his hands thoroughly before touching himself, and then practically scrub them after. He used to shower before sex and then run right from the bed to the bathroom. He used to get so in his head about everything that went along with sex. But now, with Richie, it seems less important. Washing his hands 20 minutes ago is enough. Showering a little while after sex is enough. Kisses before brushing your teeth are okay. With Richie, it’s easier to break his old rules and habits. It’s not as scary.

The lube is slightly cold to the touch so Eddie rubs it between his fingers a bit so it won’t be too much for Richie, before he’s reaching down to press his fingers against Richie’s hole. He feels a shiver under his touch, and when he looks up, he sees Richie in the mirror, half lidded and biting on his lip. Watching himself. Like Eddie asked him to.

“You’re so good for me,” Eddie muses, free hand finding its way to Richie’s hip, holding him still while his lubed fingers rub circles around Richie’s hole.

Richie gives a little choked off noise at the words of praise, and his eyes flit briefly over towards Eddie before returning to his own face. It’s so hot, the way Richie tries so hard to be good. Sometimes he’s such a brat (in the bedroom and outside of it), but other times all he wants is praise and attention. Eddie loves both versions of Richie. All versions of Richie.

Without any more word of warning, Eddie slips a finger in, all the way to the knuckle on the first movement. Richie moans, and Eddie realizes that the more they do this together, the better he’s getting at reading Richie’s noises. Like right now, he knows that was a moan of excitement and anticipation, rather than of pleasure. He slides his finger nearly all the way out, and on the next press in, adds a second finger. His movement is slower this time, more deliberate, and when Richie lets out another moan, Eddie knows that it means the guy is feeling it.

Eddie sets up a pace of thrusting his fingers in and out, loving the way that Richie’s breathing gets rougher by the second. It isn’t long before Richie’s hips are rocking back to meet Eddie’s movements, searching for more, trying to get him deeper. The small noises that start falling from Richie’s lips between heavy breaths are so hot, making Eddie want him with every part of him. Every little whine, every hitch of breath, every shaky inhale, every choked off moan; it’s all driving Eddie crazy. He’s so hard, dick dampening the front of his boxer briefs in anticipation for getting to fuck Richie. Before Richie, Eddie didn’t know sex could be so good. Didn’t know it could make you practically feral with want and need.

Richie is worked up and needy, so Eddie decides to give him a little more. He slips a third finger in on the next inward thrust, and as Richie moans loudly in the small room, he angles his fingers differently. It only takes a few more movements to finally hit the angle he’s looking for. Richie practically mewls at the feeling, pitching forward even more and dropping his head down to the counter. 

Eddie reaches up, free hand tangling in Richie’s hair before he yanks the guy’s head back up off the countertop at the same time as he rubs all three fingers firmly against that spot inside of him. Richie cries out and lets out a helpless whimper, hips twitching and mouth hanging open, legs trembling slightly. One of Eddie’s favorite sexual discoveries about Richie has been how much the guy loves having his hair pulled.

“Watch,” he says, voice firm and low.

Richie’s pupils are blown, eyelids heavy and gaze clouded. His mouth is slack, lips wet and slightly swollen from a mix of kisses and bites. He looks like the picture of sin, and god it’s one of the hottest things Eddie’s ever seen (competing only with other sights of Richie, and Richie only). When Eddie sees Richie lock eyes with himself, he tugs on the mess of curls in his hand and rubs his fingers against Richie’s prostate. The reaction is so absolutely perfect. The gasp that cuts into a whine. The low moan that reverberates through the room. The way Richie’s mouth falls even further open. It’s fucking amazing.

“You’re so hot when you’re like this Richie,” Eddie muses, fingers picking back up their pace of fucking Richie while keeping the angle that is making the man’s legs shake, “all desperate and needy. Look how fucking hot you are. God, you drive me crazy.”

Eddie has no idea what’s going through Richie’s mind right now, but from the needy look in his eyes and the way his whole body is reacting, Eddie can tell that the guy is definitely getting off on this. He keeps up his rhythm, fingering Richie open and getting him ready, making him whine and moan and shake under his touch. It makes him feel so powerful. Richie is so good at sex and manages to drive him crazy in a million ways. Richie is amazing and perfect. And the fact that Eddie can take him apart like this? It’s intense. It’s addicting.

“Eds- Eddie...” Richie says, voice rough and shaky, “fuck, Eddie, please.”

The hand in Richie’s hair relaxes, switching from gripping it to carding through it gently. The fingers buried in the guy’s ass however, don’t slow their pace.

“Yeah? Tell me what you need, babe,” Eddie responds, voice low but soothing, running his fingers through Richie’s hair gently.

He knows exactly what Richie needs. He just wants to hear it. He wants to make Richie say it.

“I need- fuck… I need you to fuck me already, dude,” Richie responds, breathless, needy, and distracted, but still maintaining eye contact with himself in the mirror when he throws on a wry smile, “I wanna watch myself get fucked.”

That. Okay yeah, shit. That’s hot. That is so ridiculously fucking hot. 

He makes a noise of agreement and carefully pulls his fingers out. He reaches for a condom and rolls it on easily. He feels like he could put a condom on him or Richie with his eyes closed at this point. He grabs the bottle of lube again and slicks himself up with it, shivering slightly as he strokes himself for a moment.

One hand at the base of his cock, and the other on Richie’s hip, he lines himself up, heat and intensity in his veins. He pauses for just a moment, giving Richie a moment to mentally prepare, and then he’s pushing in slowly. Richie is so warm and tight. So fucking tight. Fucking Richie is one of Eddie’s favorite things in the entire world. He moans right as Richie gasps, both of them so ridiculously turned on like a couple of horny teenagers.

Eddie bottoms out, buried deep inside of Richie as his toes curl in his socks. He glances up towards the mirror, and his cock twitches inside of Richie at the sight: glassy eyes, sweaty face, every inch of him the picture of need and want, looking so depraved. And he’s still staring at himself in the mirror. Fuck, he’s perfect.

Eddie gives Richie a moment to adjust, but then he’s pulling back about halfway and rocking his hips forward again, making Richie whine. Eddie notices one of his partner’s hands curled into a fist next to him on the counter, and he doesn’t hesitate to reach out. His hips rock and his hand slowly uncurls Richie’s fist until it’s loose enough that Eddie can link their fingers together from behind. He gives Richie’s hand a squeeze, and he catches the smile that graces those perfect lips of his. 

On the inward thrust, Eddie puts a little more behind it, snapping his hips forward and making Richie cry out. He does it again, and the man below him makes a noise that is practically a keen, the sound going straight to Eddie’s dick. He swears he gets off more on Richie’s noises and reactions than he does on actually fucking the guy. But the fucking is pretty spectacular anyway.

The pace he sets has them both breathless and sweating, has them both filling the small bathroom with their moans.

“You feel so good, Richie,” Eddie pants, “god I love fucking you.”

“Eddie I-” Richie starts to say, before cutting off with a gasp and another whine, “I… fuck… _Eddie_.”

Fucking Richie incoherent is an amazing feeling, one that Eddie never wants to let go off. He shifts his hips, trying to adjust the angle, and after another thrust or two he gets what he was aiming for. Richie cries out, squeezing Eddie’s hand as his hips jerk back, looking for more. Eddie watches as Richie’s eyes squeeze shut for just a moment, before his eyelids are flying back open so he can watch himself. Watch his face as Eddie fucks him and makes him feel good.

Using a hand on Richie’s hip, Eddie inches him back slightly, just enough to make room to be able to snake his hand around and close his fingers around Richie’s dick. He’s hard and leaking, and if the noises that are falling from Richie’s mouth are anything to go by, really close.

“You’re so good for me, babe” Eddie breathes out, hand starting up a rhythm of jerking Richie off to the pace of his thrusts, “you’re so fucking beautiful. I love you, Richie.”

The mix of his words and movements must be too much for Richie, because after another moment, he’s letting out a desperate moan of Eddie’s name and falling over the edge. Eddie focuses on keeping his pace, jerking Richie through his orgasm and just drinking in the sight and sound of Richie getting off for him. Because of him. 

Eddie fucks him through it, not slowing down just yet, drinking it all in as he goes.

“Don’t… fuck don’t stop,” Richie breathes out once he seems to have come back to himself, words shaky and uneven.

So Eddie keeps going, hips speeding up slightly as he chases after his own release. Richie’s noises are more high pitched now, whimpers and whines as Eddie hits all the spots that are oversensitive inside of him. He watches as Richie’s tongue darts out to wet his lips, and a thought comes to him. Leaning over, Eddie reaches up his come-covered hand and smears come over Richie’s lips. Richie’s eyes fly open and he moans as he sees himself in the mirror again, flushed, panting, needy, come staining his lips. He looks utterly debased.

Eddie feels close, so fucking close, so when Richie opens his mouth obediently and lets Eddie push his fingers inside, it’s more than enough. Squeezing Richie’s hand as the man sucks on his fingers, he gives two more thrusts and he’s falling over the edge, pleasure bursting inside of him. It blooms behind his eyelids and fills every ounce of him with warmth. He moans loudly, letting it all crash over him as he lets go and comes so fucking hard.

Slumping on top of Richie’s back, Eddie gives a heavy sated sigh. He feels warm and content and happy. Richie is so big. During sex Eddie feels larger than life, especially when Richie is moaning his name, but as soon as he’s back to the outside world, laying against Richie’s back, he’s reminded that Richie is actually the larger of the two of them. He kind of loves it. Loves his big stupid boyfriend, with his big hands, and his big shirts that Eddie steals, and his big goofy face, and just… His everything. He loves him.

It takes him a moment to realize that Richie’s not sucking on his fingers anymore, and instead is giving his fingers small kisses. It makes him smile as he nuzzles his face into his boyfriend’s back.

“That was....” Richie starts, before breaking off with a small laugh, “fuck, that was hot, spaghetti man.”

“That’s not my name, Trashmouth,” Eddie responds, knowing his smile is audible in his voice.

He lingers just a moment more before he rights himself again, standing up so he can slowly pull out. He catches the slight wince on Richie’s features, but it’s replaced with a smile as soon as it comes. Richie stands himself back upright too, rolling his shoulders and stretching his neck as he turns to face Eddie again. Eddie makes a mental note to give Richie a massage later.

“Oh sorry about that, pizza daddy,” Richie says with a smirk and something playful in his eyes.

Eddie groans and Richie laughs, a loud and infectious sound that Eddie wants to live inside of for the rest of his days. God he’s so annoying, but Eddie loves him so much. So much it fills his chest and threatens to overwhelm him.

He reaches up to put his hands on Richie’s face, pulling him down to kiss him firm and sure. There’s a part of his mind that is bothered by the fact that there’s come on Richie’s tongue, but there’s a larger part of him that doesn’t care as long as he gets to keep kissing Richie. His Richie.

The kiss breaks with shaky breath, and when Eddie moves his hands to Richie’s shoulders and looks up into his eyes, he sees so much love and happiness reflected there.

“I love you,” Eddie says, voice soft and true as Richie’s face warms in a smile, “I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you.”

Six times. He said it six times in a row. Six is one of his numbers, one of the numbers he counts to, one of his OCD numbers that rule his life. A rule telling him he shouldn’t say anything else, he’s not allowed to say it again, because it’ll mess up the balance he just made with his words. Fuck it.

“I love you,” he adds, louder this time, proving something to himself.

There’s anxiety in his chest, making his skin feel tight, telling him he fucked up and set the world off-balance. But it’s not overwhelming. The world isn’t ending. It’s okay. He’s okay.

He grins up at Richie. This little victory is a private one, and it may seem kind of silly, but it’s important. It makes him proud. It makes him feel so grateful that he has someone like Richie to help him through the mess in his head.

“I love you, Eddie,” Richie says back, warm hands finding the shorter guy’s hips so naturally, like they were drawn there.

Eddie pulls him into another kiss, and god it feels so right. It feels like coming home.


End file.
